The Meaning of Christmas
by RomanticizeMe
Summary: Edgar and Alan explain the true meaning of Christmas to a very ignorant Sam. Oneshot. Merry Christmas! Rated "T" for anti-Santa philosophy.


Disclaimer: I do not own "Lost Boys" nor reap any benefit from writing this story.

Merry Christmas, guys! I love you all and I hope that your holiday is just the best!

* * *

Edgar and Alan never celebrated holidays. Holidays promoted laziness and an excuse to avoid responsibility and to spend excess amounts of money. There was no real point to a holiday except the promotion of commercialism and conformation to what society expected of people.

So when Sam walked through the doors of their store on Christmas Eve and happily asked, "What are your plans for Christmas?", Edgar and Alan merely shared a glance and looked back at Sam with smug, knowing expressions.

"We don't celebrate the holidays," Alan said, completely serious.

"Holidays promote poverty, gluttony and selfishness," Edgar said in this strict, business-like tone, counting off on his fingers. "The worst is Christmas."

"What? Christmas is," Sam shrugged, looking at them like it was obvious. "You know…about giving, sharing? The complete opposite of those other things?"

Edgar scoffed at Sam's ignorance. "Sam, please," he began in his condescending manner. "Christmas is basically revering some criminal who runs a sweatshop, making those "elves" work tirelessly on inhuman amounts of labor for no money and then breaks into houses to leave children gifts."

"And what do those kids do," Alan cut in, still stoic as he looked at Sam. "Except throw tantrums in stores until they get what they want and the parent caves and gets the gift?"

Before Sam would have the chance to interject, Edgar and Alan began the tag team of explaining the true meaning of Christmas.

"And those parents are not only indulging their children and promoting selfishness," Edgar said knowingly, almost rubbing it in Sam's face. "They're supporting the big businesses that supply the toys and run sweatshops, just like "Santa" or Satan."

"Rearrange the letters," Alan clarified. "You get Satan."

Edgar then continued and Alan let him; Edgar was much more passionate on the issue. "And these companies can continue the exploitation of other nations who supply the toys because they keep getting financial support. And you would think that as time went on and these bosses and owners fell out of power, things would began to change."

"They don't," Alan said with a small shake of the head.

Edgar nodded in agreement. "They don't! Because these bosses that take over are the overindulged children of today! And they will continue to promote this corrupt holiday because they can reap financial benefits. The season of giving is a lie."

"It's the season of stealing," Alan interjected as he skimmed through a comic.

"Exactly! It's even represented by the icon of a man who breaks into your house and leaves gifts that children wanted despite popular belief that a child should be "good" to get gifts," Edgar stated, rolling his eyes. "These gifts are also products of a sweatshop run by-"

"Elves," Sam interjected with an eye roll. "Elves that, you know, work for Santa and love Christmas-"

Alan gave a short laugh, his eyes not leaving the comic.

Borderline offended, Edgar shot Sam a look. "Oh, excuse me, Sam. Are you implying that just because someone loves their job, they shouldn't be adequately paid? He doesn't give them shit, Sam," Edgar said, looking at his friend almost sadly, like Sam was a madman speaking meaningless gibberish. "He makes them make toys which he then gives out for free to children who are already over indulged. There's no joy in that for the elves, there's no real credit. The elves are exploited by that freak who breaks into homes and creeps on children-"

"Songs even explain it," Alan agreed.

"Exactly. He sees your child when they are sleeping, awake…he knows if they've been bad or good which means clearly the child is exposed to Santa at all hours of the day!" Edgar exclaimed-he was almost more passionate about this than vampires. "How can one seriously let their child believe in this man-this old man who lives alone-and who watches them at all hours of the day?"

"Santa's a monster."

"Precisely!" Edgar exclaimed, shooting an agreeable look at his brother then turning back to Sam. "Santa is a monster. He exploits all the innocent people around him, breaks into your home, corrupts your children with indulgences and immediate gratification…it's very odd."

"Very odd," Alan agreed. "Makes Santa's character sketchy."

"He almost sounds inhuman…" Edgar warned Sam, who was standing there with this ignorant annoyance and disbelief.

"Santa is practically-" Alan began.

"He has the characteristics of a vampire," Edgar said menacingly. "I don't know what shit you celebrate in your house, but in the Frog Household, we don't celebrate the promotion of vampires."

Alan looked up at Sam. "We don't celebrate Christmas-"

"-It's corrupt, very peculiar in the idealization of breaking and entering and spying on children, and promotes sweat shops and…vampires. " Edgar glared challengingly at Sam. "Give me one good defense of Christmas." Sam really did not want to get started on this again, despite his still thriving love of the holiday and Edgar's obvious and really unsound paranoia and hatred of the holiday that could not be further from the worship of vampires and death. So instead, he shrugged and looked down, acting completely defeated. "You have me beat. Christmas is the worst holiday."

"Well, there's also Thanksgiving-the most fascist holiday of them all," Alan said with a small glance up at the pair of them. He shrugged innocently and looked back down at the comic as he provoked an angry sigh from his brother.

"What holiday commemorates the destruction of an indigenous people and their land?" Edgar shouted authoritatively.

Sam sighed and looked down; it was going to be a long day.


End file.
